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AUTUMN LEAVES 

FRon 
AN EASTERN HAPLE 



A Collection of Songs and Verses for the Home Polks 

BY 

Mrs. Lucina Moon 




PACIFIC UNION COLLEGE PRESS 

ST. HELENA, CALIFORNIA 






DEDICA TION 

TO the memory of my beloved mothei^ 
who, though asleep these many years, yet 
speaks to me still by her early prayers and 
counsel; 

To the dear friends who have helped 
w.e by their kind words of encouragement 
and assistance; 

And to 7ny dear young people, hoping 
that in this modest little volume they may 
find some word of help or cheer which shall 
be to them a stepping-stone to the higher 
life, and that we may each one be ready to 
answer when the ''Home CaW shall sound. 

This booklet is Dedicated, 




Copyright 1916 
(By Mrs. Lucina Moon 



Cf.A^J'-j^tM? 



The Snow Lesson 



d 



'TwAS New Year's morning, and the sky was clouded, 
"^ And still oe'r all a robe of whiteness shone, 

jC For in the night our Father spread a blanket 

Oe'r field and forest green and bushes prone, 
Oe'r muddy places for the time forgotten, 

The frowning crag, the tall ferns bending low, 
Where tender hands tucked in around the edges 
A lovely mantle of the purest snow. 

All nature on that morning woke rejoicing, 

For how could we poor mortals fail to see 
The emblem of pure lives writ out before us, 

So plainly it was meant for you and me; 
A robe of charity spread oe'r our failings, 

A blessing from His hands we all may know 
That, scarred by sin, unworthy all by nature. 

We may at last be cleansed as white as snow, 

I wonder if the children in the homeland 

And they who now have grown to manhood's prime 
Who year by year this wondrous magic ponder 

Have learned its lesson in the winter time. 
Here where so seldom come beauteous snow storms, 

A blessing follows as they come and go. 
O may we all soon learn full v/ell the lesson 

So kindly given in the spotless snow. 

And when with earth the sky itself seems blending 

As 'round us eddy snowflakes in the air, 
They'll be to us a type of joy unending. 

The bliss and purity we'll have "up there." 
And though so soon their forms shall melt and vanish, 

Their beauty trodden in the grime below, 
Yet in our thoughts their lesson sweet we'll cherish 

And ask that He may make us "white as snow." 



Our Boys 

I LOVE the boys, with their rush and noise, 

And their hearts brimming oe'r with fun; 
And their hearty shout on the air rings out 

As from school they homeward run. 
Such a romping, rollicking lot of boys, 

With their rosy faces, but then 
We must always remember, in spite of it all, 

That these boys of ours make men. 

**What shall he be?" the parents ask. 

As over his couch they bend. 
' ' Shall he carry the noble burden of work 

For others till time shall end? 
Or shall he to those in darkness 

Send the truth with tongue or pen?" 
We must always remember they will grow up, 

Our boys will surely make men. 

Shall a life of pleasure his soul beguile, 

With no thought of the world's great need? 
Or with face alight with heavenly smile. 

Fill his life with the kindly deed? 
There's no room for the sluggard or trifler now. 

But for honest boys, and then 
No matter where their ways may lead. 

We'll be glad that our boys made men. 

There are many thorns for the little feet. 

And pitfalls for care-free youth; 
There are sins that stick in the human heart, 

There are ways of goodness and truth. 
Which road shall it be? The road of despair? 

Or the road of purity? Then 
We shall not regret though the years will fly, 

If our boys make noble men. 



When Mother Tucked Us In 

CoMK listen to my story, little children one and all, 

I will tell you of the years of long ago; 
Of a home amid the wild wood, where the sugar 
maples tall 
Yielded sweets that those who've tasted only know. 
Where the stories told beside the fire in that log -cabin 
home 
Held memories dear to those who listened there; 
And though years might come and vanish, still we'd 
wish no more to roam. 
But would gladly meet around that old arm chair. 

There was father bright and happy with his stores of 
of life and fun, 
And our gentle mother with the loving face; 
And the children who complete the group when once 
the work was done, 
And we gathered in the same accustomed place. 
O then we sang full many a song with all the old time 
vim 
Until the time for evening prayers and rest, 
Then in the dear old trundle bed, our mother tucked 
us in 
With gentle hands, and lips on forehead pressed. 

Those happy days have passed away, but ne'er can I 
forget 
That gentle touch upon my lip and brow; 
The loving voice which taught me then, its memories 
linger yet 
Though frosts of age my hair is whitening now. 
That darling mother long ago was laid away to rest, 

But o'er my life a radiant light is shed 
When mother kissed a fond good night and clasped 
me to her breast, 
Then tucked me in the dear old trundle bed. 



Going Home Together 

I Thess. 4:15-18 

There will be such joy in heaven 

When the saints are gathered home, 
For we'll go to heav'n together 

When our Saviour bids us come; 
From the tombs where saints are sleeping 

Shall arise the loved of yore 
From the valley and the mountain; 

Death can never hold them more 

Where the mighty billows hid them, 

Rocked to sleep in ocean's breast, 
God has had them in His keeping, 

And He knows their place of rest; 
From their graves we'll see them rising. 

With their robes so white and fair; 
And we all shall meet together. 

With our Saviour, in the air. 

Angels flying swiftly earthward, 

Gladly go on loving quest, 
Bring our little ones now sleeping, 

I^ay them on their mother's breast; 
So we'll see our dear ones gathered. 

And to meet them we shall rise; 
Then we'll all go home together 

To the fields of Paradise. 



The Expected Guest 

Often as I set the table 
I have placed an extra plate 

For the one who sometimes cometh 
Though his coming may be late. 



8 



Sometimes comes a weary pilgrim 
Worn with burdens of the day, 

And the extra plate seems cheering 
As he rests beside the way. 

Sometimes young and full of vigor, 
Far from friends and loved ones cot, 

Still they come and at our table 
Find an ever welcome spot. 

Young or old, it does not matter; 

Just the need of homely cheer 
Is what counts around our table — 

All they get by coming here. 

And the thought to me seems joyful 
That though plain our fare may be. 

The dear Master when He cometh 
Owns, "Ye did it unto Me." 

So upon our table often 

You may see the extra plate; 

Rich or poor, they're always welcome 
Come they soon, or come they late. 

Protedled , 

How many times, we cannot tell, 

God's angels intervene 
And press the powers of darkness back, 

While they step in between. 

And many times our fate were sealed, 

If 'twere not for His care, 
Which holds the threatened danger off 

Us mortals poor to spare. 

How many times God only knows; 

Our times are in His hands, 
And angels watching over us 

Are doing His commands. 



My Michigan 

TUNE: Maryland, My Maryland 

O HOW my longing heart is stirred 
By thought of thee or written word, 

how I long to see again 

Thy verdant hills, my Michigan! 
Thy mossy banks I oft have pressed, 

In dreams I see them once again 
And clasp each blossom to my breast 

And sing of thee, my Michigan. 

1 love thy woods, thy fields, thy dales. 
And wild flowers blooming in thy vales, 
Thy sunny slope, and darksome fen, — 
These, these are thine, fair Michigan! 

I see the waving corn-fields' sheen, 

And ripened sheaves the reapers glean, 

And peace and plenty smile again 
Upon thy shores, my Michigan! 

The storm-clouds rise with angry thrill, 
The thunders roar from hill to hill, 
And mimic rivers through the glen 
Are dashing now in Michigan. 
Though winters come with coat of snow, 

The larder's full, and barns o'erflow; 
Though winds may roar, our firesides then 

Are all aglow in Michigan. 

Thy lakes whose waters clear and bright 
Are mirrors still by day or night, 
Thy rivers winding through the land 
All speak of nature's lavish hand, 
And though upon thy bosom pressed 

My weary feet may never rest, 
My longing heart will turn again 

And sigh for thee, dear Michigan! 



lO 



Our Mountain Home 

Years ago my heart was yearning 

For a place to rest my feet; 
For a cot where night's returning 
Brought the home fire, brightly burning; 
And where kin, earth's pleasures spurning, 

Sought our home for joys so sweet. 

And one day my prayer was offered 
To the One whence help can come; 

And my weary feet were guided 

To a place of rest, unchided, 

And the happy hours glided 
Softly in our pleasant home. 

Yes, He led us to the mountains, 

Out from weariness to rest; 
Led us where sweet flowers were blooming. 
Wild birds, too, their love-notes crooning, 
And grand waterfalls were booming, 

To the place we love the best. 

Yonder lies a quiet valley 

Hedged around by giant hills; 

Canyon deep, with ferns and mosses, 

Where the sunlight scarcely crosses. 

And the limpid water tosses. 
Sparkling in a thousand rills. 

And close by a humble cottage 

Marks the place we call our home; 
All around sweet flowers are springing, 
Nature's charms forever bringing, 
And each day my heart is singing. 
And I wish no more to roam. 



II 



Comfort 

**Lkt not your hearts be troubled," 

We hear the Master say 
As down the rugged pathway 

We press our weary way. 
And hearts bowed down with sorrow 

Can see the silver sheen 
All lightened with His glory, 

Though dark clouds intervene. 

''I'll come again," the Master 

To His disciples said, 
''To quickly change the living. 

And wake the sleeping dead. 
In clouds of brightest glory, 

Attended by the train 
Of all the holy angels, 

I'll surely come again." 

We place the silent sleepers 

Within their lowly bed; 
We cover up the casket. 

While bows the drooping head; 
We mark each tiny grass-mound. 

And leave them there to wait. 
But knowing He who careth 

Will surely come, though late. 

A little moment only 

Shall death in triumph reign. 
When with a shout of rapture 

Our Lord will come again. 
O then in joyful greeting 

We'll clasp our loved once more, 
And sin and death forever 

Shall vanish from that shore. 



12 



Trua 

Sometimes the night seems dark, 

Groping I go; 
Dangers surround my way, 

And clouds bend low; 
But hark ! a loving voice 

Whispers to me, 
* 'Trust me, O lonely one, 

Thy path I see." 

I do not know the way, 

Unless He guide, 
And trusting Him each day, 

No ills betide, 
Unless he seeth best; 

His love so dear. 
Guides me each lonely hour; 

He's always near. 

And when temptations come. 

As come they must. 
He leaves me not alone, 

For Him I trust. 
Through sickness, doubt, and fear 

His hand holds me; 
So through life's devious ways 

His child I'd be. 

And though the darkness come, 

Trusting Him still, 
I'll rest content in Him, 

Doing His will. 
Though Christ I cannot see. 

He holds my hand, 
And when the morning breaks, 

I'll understand. 



13 



The Story Ever New 

"Tell me stowies," lisped the toddlers, 
As they climbed upon my knee; 

•'Tell us 'bout the manger Baby 
When He was a child like me." 

So I told the old, old story 

Of the Babe of Bethlehem, 
How within a manger lying 

He was sought by wise old men, 

How their precious gifts they offered 
To the Babe who slumbered there, 

And their meed of praise was proffered 
To the Child so sweet and fair. 

And I told them how the shepherds, 
As they watched their flocks by night, 

Heard the blessed angel's message 
Telling them of Christ our light. 

Who should bring to us redemption 
From our load of grief and sin; 

And by Him a door was opened. 
All who would might enter in; 

How they hastened then to find Him 
Where the angels bade them go; 

And they praised their heavenly Father 
When they found these things were so. 

Then I told them how an angel 
Said to Joseph, "Haste, arise! 

Flee to Egypt, for there's danger 
Lurking 'neath your native skies." 

So they hastened to the refuge 

Pointed out by angel voice; 
And though fleeing, yet His watch care 

Ever made their hearts rejoice. 



All the way from youth to manhood, 
How we loved His life to trace! 

Of the miracles I told them, 

And His wondrous love and grace. 

But the best of all, the children 

IvOved the tales of Galilee, 
Where Christ called the lusty fishers 

His disciples there to be; 

And the story of the tempest, 
How He stilled the mighty wave 

When from sleep He was awakened, 
His disciples' lives to save; 

And one day, when tired and weary. 
Sitting on the mountain side. 

How the mothers brought their children, 
Craved His help their feet to guide. 

How they loved the stories told them 
Of the Saviour's love and care. 

When he blessed the little children 
Who were brought before Him there, 

And He clasped them to His bosom— 
lyittle children, bowing low — 

While He laid His hands upon them. 
Blessed them, for He loved them so. 

And He said, "Allow the children, 
And forbid them not, to come; 

For of such as these My kingdom. 
Help them reach My happy home." 

And at last the sad, sad story 

Of the cross of Calvary, too; 
How He prayed for those who slew Him, 

*'For they know not what they do." 

15 



Our dear Lord is now arisen 

From the grave, and lives again. 

From His home in highest heaven, 
He is pleading still for men. 

But before He went, He told them: 
"Be not troubled, sons of men. 

To prepare for you I'm going, 
And I'll surely come again." 

Childish eyes grew bright with wonder 
As I told these words of cheer. 

I^et us each prepare to meet Him, 
For His coming now draws near. 



To a Missionary's Bride 

(To I. L. J.) 

Out from thy home sweet and tender 

Go you a bride to-day; 
Out and away from the dear ones, 

Nor can we bid thee stay. 

Go for the call of the Master 

Bids you to seek and to save! 
Go with the one whom thou lovest, 

Go, for God's son He gave. 

Bind up the broken-hearted. 

Hasten the call to heed; 
Say to the heavy-laden, 

We have a rest indeed. 

Go, and may God be with you, 

And when the victory's won, 
May you have gained sheaves for the Master, 

And hear the glad "well done." 



i6 



A String of Pearls 



Thou sawest me a little babe 

When life began on Time's rough sea, 
And thou dids't hear my first faint cry, 

O heart of love, and cared'st for me; 
My soul from tiny atom spoke, 
And in Thy book my members wrote. 

PSAivM 139:16 

A child so full of faults was I, 

And early orphaned; who could be 

A friend to guide my steps aright? — 
No other friend so good as He 

Who hears the ravens when they cry, 

Nor lack they aught who to Him fly. 

Psalm 147:9 

Through gloom of night my cry arose 

To Him who rules. The way seemed dark, 

No hand outstretched to aid seemed near. 
No mother's love, the thorns were sharp; 

Though father, mother, thee forsake, 

The lyOrd, thy cause will undertake. 

PSAI.M 27:10 

Years pass, and earthly pleasures lure 

And beckon on in ways of sin 
Till, lo, a voice from out the night 

Whispers, "O let thy Saviour in." 
When Satan caused my feet to slide 
The lyord was listening when I cried. 

PSAI.M 94:18 



17 



Temptations strong may to us come; 

Close sheltered by the Rock we hide; 
No storm can wreck or tempest drown 

If close we stay at His dear side; 
Tempted and tried that we, through Him 
May help to save lost souls from sin. 

I Petkr 2:21; Hkb. 2:r8. 

Now, as the darkening shadows fall, 

Through storm or calm, where'er I rove, 

O'er desert drear or mountain wild, 
I feel Thy hand and know Thy love, 

Thy loving kindness, O so free, 

And with that love Thou drawest me. 

JKR. 31:3. 



In the Books 

An idi,i: word, by random dropped 

I fain would call it back; 
But it is gone and other ones 

Still flocking on its track. 
O angel with the pen of fire, 

How many idle words 
Have been set down against my name, 

Thy book of truth records! 

And angry words, a solemn train, 

And bitter sinful ones. 
Till black the list grows as I gaze; 

My own undoing comes. 
The angel's eyes seem sad, but still 

His records faithful keep. 
Nothing left out, a fearful list 

With which my God to meet. 



18 



O heavenly Father, for His sake 

Who died for sinful me, 
My wicked words, my every act 

Of dark iniquity. 
Blot from Thy books, and in their place 

Write ''pardoned," O my God, 
Then shall I feel, not guilt, but grace, 

Saved by His precious blood. 



Almo^ Home 

Do YOU know the night is coming, 

Night of sin and bitter woe. 
When you see the daylight failing 

And you know not where to go? 
Can you read the signs portending 

That the hour is drawing near 
When our bark will cast its anchor? — 

Soon the Master will appear. 

Do you hear the voice which calls you 

Pleading now in tender love? 
Come while mercy's gate is open. 

Set your heart on things above. 
For the things of earth will vanish 

All will fade and pass away. 
But the love of God is faithful 

And endures through endless day. 

Though we hear the billows roaring 

Round us on the sea of life, 
We can know He'll guide us ever 

Through the storm and through the strife. 
If we put our trust in Jesus, 

I^ove and trust Him more and more, 
Soon we'll leave earth's cares and sorrows 

And we'll reach the heavenly shore. 



19 



Motherless 



No ONK lists to hear the footsteps 

As they patter down the hall, 
No one watches as the sunshine 

Throws its shadows on the wall, 
No one talks to us at eventime 

And smoothes each sleepy head. 
For the one who used to care for us is dead. 

No one comes to us and helps us 
When the load seems hard to bear, 

There is no one like a mother 
On this earth our woes to share, 

And no gentle voice like mother's 
Warns us when we go astray 

And so kindly points us to the better way. 

But her loving face has vanished. 

And my heart is sad to-night. 
For I miss her loving hand-touch 

And her step so soft and light; 
And the years stretch out so wearily 

Since she was laid away. 
And I miss her gentle voice the livelong day. 

When the morning breaks in heaven, 

I shall see my mother's face; 
There will be no veil between us 

In that holy, happy place; 
And the clouds that darkened all my life 

Shall never grieve me then, 
And I'll have my darling mother back again. 



20 



Just Write a Letter Home 

The children all are scattered 

Who 'round our board each day, 
A merry group were gathered, 

And time drags slow away. 
For now no more their faces 

Around our hearth-stone come; 
So oft the word goes, children dear, 

Do write a letter home. 

The mother says, "Just hitch up, 

And soon I'll ready be, 
For we shall get a letter, 

It surely seems to me; 
For many days have flitted 

Since news to us has come ; 
I'm sure did they but think, they'd try 

To write a letter home." 

He hastes with look so anxious 

To meet her on the way, 
' 'And did you get the letters 

We've looked for many a day?" 
"Not one" — with face so sober, 

"I thought, some news would come; 
I'll write again and tell them how 

We long for them at home." 

If they could see the sadness, 

T' would move them at the sight. 
T' would stop the hands so busy, 

And they'd take time to write. 
Their steps are growing slower, 

The time will surely come 
When you'll be glad if you've not failed 

To write to those at home. 



21 



What I See 

ToYON berries by the roadside 

Promise give of Christmas cheer; 
Forest trees in brown and golden 

Speak of winter almost here; 
Squirrels frisk and birds fly swiftly 

Gath'ring up their winter store; 
E'en the chipmunks, saucy fellows, 

Seem to say, "The summer's o'er." 

Fragrant pine and manzanita, 

And the graceful fir trees tall, 
Grand madrone and rugged live-oak, 

Cheer me, for I love them all. 
Far below us stretch the valleys 

Robed this morn in pearly white, 
Like the billows of the ocean 

With their whitecaps soft and bright. 

Here and there as on we journey. 

From the mists the heads arise 
Of the lower range of mountains, 

Peering upward toward the skies. 
And in fancy I look downward 

On old ocean's romp and roar, 
And I seem to see strong swimmers 

Battling hard to reach the shore. 



But as down the road we're winding, 

lyost is dream of swimmer bold; 
For the scene is ever changing. 

Open glade or mountain hold, 
Till at last my tired palfrey 

Slow descends to valley's rim, 
And a wondrous panorama 

Greets my eyes, no clouds to dim. 



22 



Just before to charm the vision 

Stretches out the changeful scene, 
Lowly cot and goodly mansion, 

While green meadows lie between; 
And at eve as homeward wending 

Up the mountain's grand old height, 
Purple haze enwrapping valley 

Seems to breath a soft **good night." 



At The Master's Feet 

There is work and toil in the day's hard moil, 

And time rolls faster and faster; 
But the day is blest when the evening's rest 

Is spent at the feet of the Master. 

O the wear and tear of the load of care 

That so many bear in their anguish! 
Could they know their Guide as He walks beside, 

No more in sorrow they'd languish. 

O how sweet the day when, beside the rough way 
Are some we can help while we cheer them; 

Though our own courage lacks, we have not on our 
backs 
A load, for there's One who will bear them. 

So as onward we go 'mid the rain or the snow. 
Through drought and all kinds of weather, 

No storms will we fear, while the Master is near. 
And the desert is blooming with heather. 

And though dark shadows come, we are nearing our 
home, 

Though clouds gather thicker and faster; 
Still the joy will be sweet, when at His blessed feet 

We shall lay down our sheaves for the Master. 



23 



No Half-hearted Service 

'Tis a saying of old unfailing and true 

"Let us do with our might what our hands find to do." 

For this is the work time, no other I'll see 

That can bring such rich blessings to me. 

The world's harvest waits, while the dreamers sleep on, 

Unmindful that many to ruin have gone 

Who might have been saved had he waked to this 

thought, 
And no half-hearted service had wrought. 

There is joy in the service of doing our best. 
There are great opportunities waiting our quest; 
Let this be our motto as long as we live, 
"No half-hearted service I'll give." 

The "loud cry" is sounding. The ranks let us fill! 
Hasten on, looking upward, each doing His will! 
There are evils to shun, but a heaven's in view, 
And naught but true service will do. 

With a steady persistence, press on toward the gates; 
For beyond them the joy of eternity waits. 
And the ones whom the King in His beauty shall see 
No half-hearted Christians will be. 



Only a Tramp 



Only a tramp, a poor old tramp, 

Wounded to death he lay, 
While the train went by with rush and roar, 

Hurrying on its way. 



24 



Tenderly lift the broken form, 

And smooth the hair from his brow; 

Remember a mother once fondled the hands 
So cold and pulseless now. 

Only a tramp, yet we cannot know 
The ways that his feet have trod, 

Temptation's fierce power that brought him here. 
Dead on the roadway sod. 

Some day a reckoning time will come. 

Heart-secrets will come to light. 
And it may be then his record shall stand 

Not sinful, but pure and white. 

I^ay him away, and drop a tear 

For the mother we have not known; 

Scatter some flowers upon his bier, 
And silently leave him alone, 

To sleep and rest till the trump shall call; 

On earth's loving breast to lie. 
With the verdant woodland leaves for a pall, 

And over him bending the sky. 



Day Dawns 

TUNE : Come Thou Fount 

List the notes of joy and gladness, 

Signs foretell the Lord is near. 
Banish every thought of sadness. 

Silence every doubt and fear; 
Long has been the night of darkness. 

Long our hearts been filled with dread; 
Soon the Saviour's voice resounding 

Calls the living, wakes the dead. 



25 



Hasten on, O day of brightness! 

Help us, Lord, our work to do, 
That in purest robes of whiteness 

We be found, when called to go; 
Lest our weary feet should falter, 

Keep us. Lord, from day to day; 
Never let our courage languish, 

Guide us in the narrow way. 



I Know Not 

I KNOW not. Lord, how dark the night 
Through which my feet may grope; 

But this I know, thou art my light, 
Thy word my only hope. 

I know not, Lord, the devious paths 
O'er which my way may tend; 

But this I know. Thy word is sure; 
Thou 'It keep me to the end. 

I know not. Lord, what I can do 
To haste this message sweet; 

But, Lord, I consecrate my all, 
And rest in Thee, complete. 

And then whate'er Thou hast for me 

Of changes, I'll abide. 
In storm or calm, in shade or sun, 

Safe sheltered by Thy side. 

And when the sheaves are garnered in, 
And thou, my Lord, dost come, 

May I be numbered with the blest 
Who hear the glad ''well done." 



26 



Compensation 



Sometimes my heart is sad and weary 

Of this world of sin ; 
I long for that bright home where sorrow 

Cannot enter in; 
And then the thought comes softly stealing, 

If we faithful prove, 
We soon shall enter bliss immortal, 

Crowned with Jesus' love. 



Chorus: 



We long to see him coming; 

We'll watch, and work, and pray; 
We'll faithful prove the Saviour's love. 

Then praise through endless day. 

Sometimes a cloud of darkness hovers 

O'er our weary way, 
And like a pall shuts out the sunlight 

Of earth's brightest day; 
Yet every cloud that thus enfolds us. 

Is for help allowed — 
A silver lining shines the brightest 

Neath the darkest cloud. 

Then let us fix our thoughts on Heaven, 

And the glories there, 
Our lamps well trimmed and brightly burning 

With a radiance fair. 
We'll help to lift our fallen brothers 

And our sisters dear. 
And then with them we'll greet our Saviour 

When he shall appear. 



27 



The Great Consummation 

"Auld Lang Syne" revised 

O WEARY ones, lift up your heads, 

Salvation's near at hand; 
The Saviour soon with open arms 

Shall greet His faithful band. 
Then troubles deep and trials sore 

Our souls shall not oppress, 
But life immortal, joys untold. 

Shall then our spirits bless. 

Chorus: 

Then hail our glorious coming I,ord, 
Ye saints, His praises sing. 

We'll greet Him soon, if faithful here; 
All hail, our coming King! 

O lonely ones, your vision cast 

On yonder bright abode. 
Where Jesus lives to intercede 

For us His precious blood. 
For very soon the angel band 

With Jesus as their head 
Will come to change the living and 

To wake the sleeping dead. 

No longer lonely and oppressed, 

No more of sighs and tears. 
But Jesus comes, the one who died 

And lives through endless years. 
O shout for joy, ye sons of men. 

Our Saviour's coming soon! 
Get ready now to meet your I^ord 

And cast away all gloom. 



28 



The ones who soon in peace shall meet 

Their glorious coming Lord 
In robes of righteousness shall shine, 

Their lives of one accord; 
Upon their lips no guile is found, 

All spotless, pure and bright; 
They wait salvation from above, 

Redemption from earth's night. 



A Sabbath Walk 

'Tis Sabbath morning, and the church bells ringing 

The hour of service, and of praise and prayer. 
Blest day of days! No work to mar its resting, 

I hasten on my way, its joys to share. 
Myriads of birds their early matin voicing. 

Pour forth their joy on wing with quickened flight, 
And woodland flowers their faces turning upward. 

Exhale sweet incense to the I^ord of light. 

I must walk carefully as on I'm going, 

For lo, I seem to be on holy ground. 
And as I list from out the tallest tree-tops 

Comes a low symphony of sweetest sound. 
The murmuring in the pine-trees ever seeming 

lyike choirs invisible, that to my heart 
Speak of an angel band of white-robed singers 

Who in God's grand cathedral have a part. 

And when full soon my restfull walk is over 

And I among the faithful join in song, 
My heart's attuned to music of th' immortals 

Caused by His blessings which around me throng. 
O who would change this free life of the country 

For heated pavement, and the restless crowd? 
Pity the poor who often spend a lifetime 

Where God's pure, fragrant air is not allowed! 

29 



Independence Ode } 

(1898) I 

Unto a land almost unknown, | 

Our fathers came to make a home ' 

Across the sea; 
For freedom's cause they dared the wilds, 
And shrank not from their grim defiles, 

For liberty. 

They braved the wild beasts in their den, 
And famine dread and cruel men. 

To found our home; 
Hewed out with giant strength of arm, 
A nation's place, and then they bade 

The oppressed come. 

Here freedom find, and liberty; 
And yet the trail of slavery 

lyay o'er the land; 
This must not be; and freedom rose, 
And from her garments washed the stain 

With mighty hand. 

Years swiftly pass; low, now we hear 
From Cuba's isle, a cry of fear; 

Our hearts are stirred; 
Oppression dread with iron heel 
Stalks through their land, slights their appeal, 

Their cry is heard. 

A call to arms from South and North; 
Brothers and valiant sons pour forth. 

Succor to give. 
They who as foeman once had bled. 
Now side by side their life blood shed. 

That she might live. 

30 



As streams that, rising from one source, 
May flow apart yet find their course 

To the same sea. 
So North and South united stand 
Once more, and grasp each other's hand, 

For liberty. 



To a Bride 

CTo A. L. C.) 

Nae gift o' gold or siller 

Ha'e I to gie 
Only a wee bit rhymin' 

Gi'e I thee. 

**What shall it be?" was my earnest thought 
As I wrought with my hands each day, 

''What can I give to express my love 
For the one who is going away?" 

Of precious gifts of silver or gold 

My purse has a meager store, 
But my heart yearns sadly for the one who goes 

Mayhap to return no more. 

I have naught to give but a loving heart, 
And a prayer that your life be blest. 

And the wish that the angels watch over you 
As you go on your loving quest. 

To seek out the wanderers for whom Christ died, 
And I— glad, though with tear-dimmed eye- 
Relinquish all claims of a lowlier sort, 
And bid you a fond good bye. 



31 



Signs of His Coming 

TUNE: The Little Old Log Cabin in the Lane 

This world with all its trials very soon shall pass away, 

And soon will usher in a glorious dawn; 
See, the works of men are fallen and fast going to decay, 

And soon on earth will come that final morn, 
When, freed from sin and sorrow, those who love Him 
shall behold 

The Saviour in His beauty on the cloud, 
For very soon our Lord will come to take His people 
home, 

While with triumph rings their hallelujah's loud. 

Chorus: 

The Saviour's coming soon to take His children home; 

We have'nt long to work here below. 
So let us faithful be until our weary task is done, 

And in joy with Him to heaven we shall go. 

The marshalling of armies tells of war and deadly strife, 

''Distress of nations with perplexities;" 
The sea and waves the chorus join, the winds lift up 
their voice. 
While famine rules in lands across the sea. 
Wild flood and fire and earthquake tell of labor to be 
done, 
In warning men to seek the Pearl of price; 
The hearts of men are failing them with dread of things 
to come; 
O may we help them gain eternal life ! 



32 



A Du^y Road 

'Tis a dusty road, 

And the hot sun scorches 
My face and hands 

Like flaming torches; 
But a soft breeze blowing 

From out the west 
Seems wooing the sun, 

As a bird, to rest. 

And the lights and shades 

Of the summer grasses 
Seem as o'er it 

The soft wind passes 
Like ocean's calm 

After storm and din, 
When the little waves 

Come rolling in. 

So as on we go. 

We welcome gladly 
The shady trees. 

For we need them sadly; 
My tired horse stops 

At the fountain's brink 
And quaffs her fill 

Of the cooling drink. 

The leafy trees 

Make cooling arches 
In which to rest 

When the sun's heat parches; 
There are so many joys 

That e'en life's load 
The lighter seems, 

Though ''a dusty road." 



33 



My Guardian Angel 

In childhood's day our mother's love 

Sheltered her nestlings from the wrong, 
Shielded, corrected, guided true, 

Lightened our days with happy song; 
And though our wayward feet oft strayed 

From paths serene, in pleasure's quest, 
My mother's voice in accents mild 

Would say, "My child, this way is best." 

In youth's fleet time no mother's hand 

Was left to guide on life's rough way, 
And voice of siren urged my steps, 

lyuring in paths from right to stray, 
My guardian angel oft would come 

And point my eyes to home of rest 
And gently take my hand and say, 

''This way, this way is always best." 

While yet adown the path I trod, 

Pleasures of earth my way beset 
Till thoughts of heaven seemed banished quite 

Amid the whirl, could I forget? 
Ah no, the voice in tender tones 

Spoke of a haven where is rest 
And then of chasm escaped and said, 

"The upward way is always best." 

The way is long, my weary feet 

Have often stumbled, and my heart 
Has often bled with arrows pierced, 

Still, striving to do well my part 
I onward press, though round me lie 

Sin's pitfalls which my soul distressed. 
For Angel guide still whispers low 

" This way, this way is always best." 



34 



And when yon skies shall open wide 

As upward turns my raptured gaze 
And thousands of th' angelic host 

Shall thrill my soul with glad amaze. 
And in their midst my Saviour's form 

Be met in glory by the blest. 
My guardian Angel then will say 

** This way brings joy and endless rest." 



The Home Beyond 

I've heard the story told so oft, 

But yet 'tis ever new, 
The story of our blessed Lord 

Who died for me and you. 
And to His Father did ascend, 

Bright mansions to prepare; 
And if we're faithful here below 

We soon shall meet him there. 

That land with living water flows. 

And trees are fresh and green: 
And flowers with fragrance fill the air, 

And bright the golden sheen 
Of fruitful fields of waving grain; 

Naught can on earth compare 
With joys our Saviour has in store. 

For those who meet Him there. 

I long to see His blessed face, 

And hear the ransomed sing 
All praise and honor to His name. 

While heaven's arches ring. 
Let's join the ranks of workers here. 

And faithful servants prove. 
Then sing. All Hail! when Jesus comes 

In glory from above. 



35 



The Garden in Fact and Fancy 



Come out in the garden, dearie, 

I^et me show you around; 
Here where the flowers are blooming 

List to the musical sound 
Of humming-birds flying swiftly, 

See the lilies bend low, 
Hear campanula bells tinkle 

Softly, as onward we go. 

lyook at those border-pink blossoms — 

Pick a bouquet if you will — 
There where the merry bees gather 

Busily getting their fill. 
Stop at that row of carnations; 

Sweet is their fragrance I know. 
This is the young people's verdict, 

''Sweetest of flowers that grow." 

Petunias, those are, and so hardy. 

So winsome and constant, you see 
They bloom in the shine or in shadow; 

lyike them, ever faithful I'd be. 
And pansies lift up their bright faces, 

Most roguish of flowers are they; 
Their saucy heads nodding and beck'ning 

Reminds one of children at play. 

Do see that long row of iris! 

In royal colors are they. 
Standing like true knights and loyal 

Each dressed in a kingly array. 
Hollyhocks here, of all colors — 

How could we slight them so long? 
For in an old-fashioned garden 

Surely these flowers belong. 



36 



Gailardias flaunt their bright colors 

Anear to my kitchen door, 
And roses their fragrance blending 

With all the dear flowers of yore. 
So we shall see them in fancy 

For many have faded and gone, 
And only in mem'ry they'll greet me. 

So cheerful at early dawn. 



Presentation Verses for the Bible 

Man's word may fail, 

But God's word standeth sure; 

Though all else come to naught, 
It shall endure. 

Take and read this precious casket, 
Filled with pearls of greatest worth; 

Heed, O heed its truths, I ask it; 
Better they, than gems of earth. 

LiKK a precious fountain. 

Pouring from its brink 
Streams of living water. 

Where we all may drink. 

May this precious Bible be 
A token of God's love for thee; 
May its truths to thee be blest, 
In giving thee eternal rest. 

AccKPT this treasure, friend of mine, 

And search its pages o'er; 
A lamp to light those feet of thine 

Unto the other shore. 



37 



That Beautiful Home 

O I LONG for my Saviour's appearing 

On the clouds of glory so bright, 
And I know that the time is fast nearing 

When I shall behold Him in light; 
But my yearning heart trembles with sorrow 

And the tears all unbidden will come, 
And I cry, "O my Lord, so unworthy 

Am I for that heavenly home!" 

O to join with the loved ones ascending. 

Mounting up to the City of Gold, 
Where nothing shall come that's offending 

And treasures eternal behold. 
But O, when I think of the life-blood 

On Calvary's cross shed for me, 
My heart thrills with praise for the ransom 

Which was paid that we all might be free. 

And I think of that beautiful country 

Where sorrow shall never more come, 
There no wand'rer shall say, *'I am weary," 

But all shall be happy at home; 
Beauteous flowers we shall pluck in our rapture, 

Bird songs will our spirits delight; 
Yet my heart offers praise to our Saviour 

Who will give us the garments of white. 

He will bid us sit down at the table 

Filled with food by His own loving hand, 
And with souls running over with pleasure 

Eat the fruits of that heavenly land. 
O to meet in those beautiful mansions 

Bright gems I have helped to prepare 
To shine in His kingdom forever 

Will be pleasure enough for me there. 

38 



Then help me, dear Saviour, to hasten 

This message of mercy to give, 
To the Bast, to the West, send the story, 

Whosoever repenteth shall live. 
lyet dark frozen fields of the Northland 

And the South with its breezes so rare 
Hear the cry going forth to the nations, 

''All ye lands, for your Saviour prepare." 



The Joy of My Lord 

I HAVK heard of a city of light. 

With its streets made of glittering gold, 

Of the angels in garments of white, 

And the songs that will never grow old; 

There fresh glories unfold in that city of gold, 
But the joy of my lyord will be mine, 

O'er the lambs I have brought to His fold, 

I have heard of a country so fair 

With its hills and its valleys of green 

Covered over with flowers so rare, 

While the River of I^ife flows between; 

There the tree on its shore giveth life evermore, 
But the greatest af joys will be mine. 

In the souls I have led to that shore. 

Let them sing of the fruits and the flowers, 
And the mansions so beauteous and grand, 

Let them tell of the joys that await 
Those that enter Emmanuel's land; 

But the wonder will be that my Lord should use me, 
A poor sinner, to help some lost soul 

Share the joys of that beautiful land. 



39 



Redeeming the Time 

Eph. 5:16 

Wk I.ONG to see our Saviour coming, 

Our hearts are filled with love; 
Our tongues shall sing the songs of Zion 

When Jesus comes from above. 
"Come enter in, the gate stands wide," 

We long to hear Him say. 
*'Thou chosest Me to be thy guide, 

Enter the realms of day." 

Yet there's a work we all may hasten, 

The midnight hour draws near, 
A world to warn of coming danger 

While mercy still is here. 
O haste and take the Saviour's word 

Your choice and guide to be, 
And join the ranks of those who work 

To set sin's captives free! 

The hour is late and dangers thicken 

And time rolls on apace; 
lyCt's to the work the day declineth; 

Soon we shall see His face. 
His hands and feet with wounds are marred 

And pierced His side for me. 
His loving voice so tender says, 

''I bore it all for thee." 



Looking Forward 

This cold dark earth with all its sorrow 

Soon, soon shall pass away, 
And we shall greet a glad to-morrow 

If all is right to-day. 



40 



I would not wish one fleeting moment 

Of time to backward roll, 
For just ahead my Saviour beckons 

To every weary soul. 

Yes, just ahead His soft voice pleading 
Tells of His wondrous love 

In offering life and joy eternal 

And mansions bright above. 

And just ahead our loved ones gathered, 
Redemption's song shall sing; 

Hands clasped with joy, no more to sever 
From Jesus Christ our King. 

Act well your part in life's great battle 

To-day, O weary soul, 
Nor dream of past, but faithful proving, 

You soon shall reach the goal. 

To those who, in His love abiding, 
March onward in His way, 

The gates of pearl will soon give entrance 
To an eternal day. 



Light Cometh 

On a sick-bed low, in a cottage lone. 
Where the wind and rain are beating, 

I lie and look at the dark, dark clouds, 
And watch the rain's white sheeting. 

And lo, in the west a strip appears 

Of the azure blue of heaven, 
And the storm-king flies before the breeze 

As a ship by tempest driven. 



41 



So it may be now, though the clouds seem dark, 

And the way seems dreary ever, 
Still the light may come, and my life flow on 

Like a bright and shining river. 



Only a Little Flower 

ONI.Y a little flower, 

A pink in its purity, 
A fragrant snow-white blossom, 

But it means so much to me. 
It stands for the love of mother, 

Though that mother has long been dead; 
It stands for her love and labors 

And her influence o'er me shed. 

For the few short years of my lifetime 

O'er which her gentle hand 
Did all it could to prepare me 

For a home in that better land. 
How her sweet, low words come to me, 

The lessons she taught me then; 
Of the way that leads to heaven, 

By keeping God's precepts ten. 

Only a flower so tiny. 

Yet the influence it may wield 
May help us to fight life's battles. 

Yes, help us to win the field. 
So take it, this symbol of mother. 

Of all that is holy and right. 
And may its loveliness help you 

To be perfected in His sight. 



42 



My Heaven Land 

TUNE: Maryland, My Maryland 

My Father's home is fair and bright, 
No winters chill or summers blight, 
No sickness, sorrow, grief or pains 
Can reach the place where Jesus reigns; 
And when upon thy shore I stand 
And thrills my soul with glad delight 
I'll join with angel's pure and bright 
And sing of thee, my heaven land. 

With wondrous love the Saviour came 
To this lost race in sin and shame; 
He lived that we His life might see, 
He died that we might ransomed be; 
And when upon the clouds so grand 
His form is seen, so radiant then, 
He'll surely say, "I've come again. 
To take you home to heaven land." 

Old earth's dark night will soon be past, 
And Eden's bloom will come at last; 
The pearly gates will open wide 
And in God's presence we'll abide; 
And as I clasp some loved one's hand, 
As happy days glide gently by 
Without a tear or doubt or sigh, 
I'll talk of thee, my heaven land. 

O Father, grant my earnest plea, 
That those whom thou hast given me 
Thine own shall be in that great day. 
When sin and death shall pass away; 
And when before Thy throne I stand, 
And clasp my loved ones to my heart. 
Where dear ones never more shall part. 
Thy praise we'll sing in heaven land. 



43 



Lines on Anniversary 

Just thirty years ago to-day 

We two were wed, dear John; 
And now long years have passed away, 

We cannot see quite clear, John; 
How 'tis our "castles in the air" 

Have failed to come to time, John; 
We've had hard work, and good plain fare, 

With more of prose than rhyme, John. 

And now among my locks of brown 

Some streaks of gray are rife, dear; 
And having climbed, we now go down 

The rugged hill of life, dear; 
As hand in hand we've passed along 

Beside our path have been, dear; 
Full many flowers and cheery song. 

To help us now and then, dear. 

Though sometimes meager was our fare, 

The children throve the same, John; 
And honest sons and daughter fair 

Enjoyed whatever came, John; 
So if our hoards of gold are none, 

We'll e'en be happy yet, John; 
For greater wealth to us has come 

Than money e'er can get, John. 

Our children's love is richer still 

Than all the hoards of earth, dear; 
And honest friends and pure good-will 

Of which we have no dearth, dear; 
So let our voices join to praise 

The One whose loving hand, dear; 
Has blessed us in so many ways 

With joys both true and grand, dear. 



44 



Children's Song 



lyiSTKN to the children's song, 

Hear their happy voices; 
Join in concord sweet and strong, 

Hear the children's song. 
Jesus loves to hear them sing 
Praises to their heavenly king; 
I^et His courts with music ring 

Praises to our King. 

Hear the birdies in their bowers 

Sing their Maker's praises, 
All the happy livelong hours 

Singing in their bowers. 
Jesus loves to hear their praise 
While they sing their sweetest lays, 
Flitting through the woodland maze, 
Hear their song of praise. 

See the flowers lift their heads 

Praise of incense giving; 
See them from their mossy beds 

lyift their dewy heads. 
Children, join with bird and flower 
In your happy spring-time hour; 
Praise Him for His love and power 

In your childhood's hour. 

When the evening shadows fall 
See the stars come twinkling; 

Praising Jesus one and all 
As the shadows fall. 

All the hosts of heaven combine 

Thus to make His glory shine, 

I^et us all the chorus join 
In the glad spring time. 



45 



^JVleniories 

"Hush, my dear," mother sang in the old rocking 
chair, 

With her babe softly folded to rest, 
And the sweet lullaby faintly falls on my ear, 

With the memories of childhood so blest; 
Babe and mother both sleep in their low narrow beds, 

"Sundered far," though one blood they both lie; 
With the winter's warm blanket of snow o'er their 
heads. 

Or the summer's soft breeze floating by. 



As the years press along in their hurrying flight. 

Soon to woman's estate I have grown. 
And a mother, I sit by the fireside bright. 

Which my little ones clustering throng; 
And the lullaby songs that my mother sang once 

Are re-echoed again as I sing 
And the tender thoughts come of that mother so dear. 

As my babes to my loving arms cling. 



Many years have gone by since those bright happy 
days, 
And the children are scattered afar. 
And the rooms which once rang with their laughter so 
gay, 
Are all silent — no echo doth mar; 
But the treasures of memory still bring each bright 
face, 
And I long for the homecoming so. 
And in dreams all our loved ones are gathered once 
more, 
Round the hearth as in days long ago. 



46 



As I sit in the twilight and think of the ones 

Who once brightened our home with their song, 
May the angels who guarded their childhood's low bed 

Still their watchcare keep shielding from wrong. 
May the dear, loving Father soon draw them to Him, 

And when life's toilsome journey shall cease, 
May the loved ones all meet, sundered far though we be, 

In the home of rich blessings and peace. 



At His Coming 



In columns triumphal the saints are arising, 

With shouts of the ransomed they mount towards 
the skies, 
Their anthems of triumph and songs of salvation 

Proclaim them the people prepared to arise; 
With faces all shining with heavenly glory. 

They're shouting the victory o'er sin and the grave. 
All glory and honor and praises and power. 

Shall be unto Him who the sinner can save. 

Bright stars in their crowns tell the tale of their labors 

As low they are laid at the feet of their king. 
The joy of the I^ord, and the joy of poor mortals 

Are joined in the songs which the ransomed shall sing. 
Would you be the ones who shall join in the singing 

Of anthems of praise to the One who was slain 
And voicing the rapture of sin-pardoned favor? — 

Give praise to the lamb who is coming again. 

Let Jesus dwell in you and keep you from sinning. 

Then in that glad morning He'll claim you His own; 
He'll take you to dwell in the heavenly mansions 

And bid you sit down with Himself on His throne; 
Then through the long ages of songs and rejoicing 

All sorrow and sighing forever shall cease; 
Grim death shall give place to the life everlasting. 

And warring and tumult, to gladness and peace. 

47 



Thanksgiving Time 

'Tis said that in November 
There comes a special day 

In which we should be thankful 
With all our hearts alway. 

And this is as it should be, 
This custom of good cheer, 

To praise the bounteous Giver 
For blessings of the year. 

So we won't forget Him, 

The author of us all; 
*Tis surely right and proper 

To keep it every fall. 

'Tis fine to meet with loved ones 
Around our humble boards, 

And naught on earth can equal 
The joys that home affords. 

The home-made bread and butter; 

O how the moments fly 
When at the table seated 

We eat the pumpkin pie! 

And taste the cakes and apples 
And numerous other things, 

And join the merry laughter — 
Time surely must have wings. 

For soon the day is over 

And friends must part forsooth; 
But ever lingers with us 

To age from early youth 



48 



The joy of these reunions, 

The blessings which they bring 

The lowly home and loved ones 
Are coveted by kings. 

I think each day should bring us 
A glad thanksgiving time; 

For O His love and mercies 
From day to day are mine. 

And so from year's commencement 

Until December's old, 
We all have cause to thank Him 

For blessings manifold. 



He's Coming 

TUNE: Old Black Joe 

Hark to the sounds that greet the pilgrim's ear! 
All things proclaim our Saviour's coming near; 
Sun, moon, and earth in darkness veil their face, 
And soon, O soon, will pass away the day of grace. 

Chorus: 

He's coming! He's coming! 

The one for whom we sigh; 
All things in heaven and earth proclaim 

His coming nigh. 

Nations of earth in angry strife contend. 

Tempest and earthquake fright the sons of men; 

Howl, O ye rich, for soon will anguish come, 

For very soon your eyes shall see your dreadful doom. 

O that our lives may now with His accord, 
That when appears our blessed risen Lord, 
We, purified from every taint of sin, 
Shall hear the words, "Well done, My child, come 
enter in." 

49 



To The Little Ones 

I LOVE the little children, 
So kind, so good and true; 

I love to see them happy 
And Jesus loves them, too. 

And so He watches o'er them. 
He hears each unkind word, 
And oft His heart is saddened 
At what His ear has heard. 

And O what joy is given 
To His dear heart of love 

When children strive to please Him 
Who dwells in light above. 

I love the little children. 

But O! I long to know 
If those will meet me yonder 

I loved so here below. 

It seems to me, there even, 
If I should miss some face, 

'Twould make me sad to know it, 
E'en in that happy place. 

I wonder, O I wonder. 

If when I get up there 
I'll see those loving faces 

And forms all bright and fair. 

I'll hear their voices singing 

All praises to His name 
Who gave Himself to save them 

And died the death of shame. 

For soon in clouds of glory 
He to this earth will come 

And take those who are ready 
To dwell with:Him at>ome. 



50 



When Jesus Comes 

No HEART shall ache when Jesus comes; 

We'll all be gathered home; 
No sad heart break when Jesus comes; 

We'll all be gathered home; 
No tear-drops dim our waking eyes, 
No sound of grief or sorrow's sighs, 
But rapturous songs shall fill the skies; 

We'll all be gathered home. 

No death's cold wave when Jesus comes; 

We'll all be gathered home; 
No lonely grave when Jesus comes; 

We'll all be gathered home; 
No long farewell, the fond heart crushed, 
No sad refrain, "dust unto dust," 
But glorious meeting with the just; 

We'll all be gathered home. 

O glorious time when Jesus comes! 

We'll all be gathered home. 
O sight sublime when Jesus comes! 

We'll all be gathered home. 
O hasten on, great day so blest. 
And bring the saint's eternal rest! 
O let me hide in Jesus' breast. 

When we are gathered home. 



An Outing 

Out in the woodland, come let us stray 
Where beauteous flowers bloom all the way. 

Wild birds are singing. 

Sweet pleasures bringing; 
Happy the hours in these mossy bowers, 
lyist to the droning of the bees. 
See squirrels romping in the trees. 

51 



On as we wander over green glades, 
Seeking no longer dense forest shades; 

Where sunlight's streaming 

Waters are gleaming; 
Come let us float in our fairy boat. 
See how the ripples dance along, 
Hear how the branches echo our song. 

Hark! voices calling bid us come, 

lyoved ones are waiting to guide us home. 

While birds are hov'ring 

Wee nestlings, cov'ring 
Their downy heads, tucked in their beds. 
Come, let us hasten while we may 
Bre gath'ring darkness close the day. 



The Day of His Coming 

O the day of my lyord is fast nearing 
When in glory resplendent and grand 

He shall come,— for we love His appearing - 
And shall take us to heaven's bright land. 

Then to those who in Jesus are sleeping 
Shall the trumpet awakening sound, 

And from many lone graves long forgotten 
Shall the blessed arise from the ground. 

O I long for that day which is coming! 

What a glorious meeting 'twill be 
When with saints and with angels ascending 

My dear I^ord in His beauty I see ! 



52 



O how sad will it be if we heed not 

All his precepts divine to obey; 
To the rocks we shall cry to fall on us, 

And we'll flee from His presence away. 

But the rapture of those who are ready 
With their garments a- glimmer with light, 

When they know the dear Saviour is coming 
To redeem them from sin's darkest night. 



Girlie 

Ykars ago, with glad surprise, 
Welcomed we a little stranger; 

Joyfully the trust we took. 

Though the world was full of danger. 

Swift the happy hours went by; 

How I envied them the going! 
O, if we might keep her so! — 

But time's tide is swiftly flowing. 

Childhood's days so quickly fly 

With their hours of mirth and singing; 

School-days pass so merrily, 

And the years go onward winging. 

Maiden coy is passing now; 

Womanhood so sweet and tender, 
Now has come, with sun and shade; 

Thou who rul'st be her Defender. 

Guide, O guide, my girlie's feet. 
In the paths of the immortals; 

May she tread the shining way. 
Till she reach the pearly portals. 



53 



Jesus is Coming Again 

TUNE: "Christ in Song" No. 560 

Jesus is coming in glory, 
Join in the joyful refrain; 

Tell to the world the glad story, 
Soon He is coming to reign. 



Chorus: 



Tell the good news, tell the good news, 
Tell the good news of His coming, 
Sing it o'er land and o'er main; 
Coming again! Coming again! 
Tell the good news to the nations, 
Jesus is coming again. 

Once as a babe in the manger 
Lowly they laid Him to rest 

Sweet was the sleep of the stranger 
Watched by the angels so blest. 

Once in the desert He hungered. 
There He was tempted and tried; 

Once of His own was rejected. 
And for poor sinners He died. 

Raised from the grave to redeem us, 
Pleading for sinners He stands; 

Soon He is coming to claim us, 

Gath'ring His loved from all lands. 

Swift to the work let us hasten, 
Tell the sweet story of love. 

Gathering sheaves for the Master; 
Soon will He come from above. 



54 



The Part o' the Ways 

I SAW a stricken mother bend 

lyow o'er her babe with anguished brow, 
A whispered prayer to heaven send 

For strength to bear what comes, — e'en now 
I see the color fade and go, 

The sweet eyes close, while still she prays; 
And then I whisper sad and low, 

"Thou' St come to the part o' the ways." 

And one I saw in early youth 

lyeave parents kind, the world to roam; 
With heart brimfuU of love and truth 

To make his way he leaves his home; 
His sheltered childhood left behind, 

He thinks e'en in these early days, 
* ' The world is bright, and I shall find 

Much joy at the part o' the ways." 

Says one who long the world had tried 

And found its gains like bubbles fair. 
Its joys elusive: ' * Woe betide 

The one who trusts its baleful snare." 
Footsore and weary lone and sad, 

"Take all you've given," — His head he lays 
On mother earth's fond breast, so glad 

He's come to the part o' the ways. 

O in this gladsome hour of spring. 

When pleasure lures and beckons you 
To join in folly's maddening swing. 

To early precepts, O be true! 
That when the time— as come it must — 

Shall come to you at the end of days, 
Your heart can safely in Him trust 

Who led at the part o' the ways. 



55 



The Gospel Message 

TUNE: One Hundred Years to Come 



Go TKLi. the tidings far and near, 

The Saviour soon will come; 
Bid every saint his brother cheer, 

The Saviour soon will come. 
Go sound the message o'er the land, 

To every isle and ocean strand; 
Awake, ye saints, this message bear 
To every nation far and near. 

The Saviour soon will come. 



O shout for joy, ye sons of men, 

The Saviour soon will come 
To end for aye your grief and pain, 

The Saviour soon will come. 
Go tell it to earth's weary ones. 
To them these words like music comes; 
Tell them of His redeeming grace 
Preparing them to see His face, 
When He our life shall come. 



In dungeon dark the story tell, 

The sinner's friend will come, 
Who died that we might with Him dwell, 

Our Saviour soon will come. 
To heathen lands He bids us go, 
The harvest reap; the sun is low; 
Let this our song and message be. 
He comes to set the captives free — 
O Saviour, quickly come. 



56 



The mourners then shall dry their tears 

When Christ their Lord shall come; 
They'll praise His name through endless years 

When Christ their Lord shall come. 
The sick and maimed, the halt and blind, 
Shall in His presence blessing find, 
And songs of joy shall fill our days 
With endless happiness and praise 
When He our Lord shall come. 

Go tell the news, He bids us go. 

The Saviour soon will come, 
Who died for sinners here below — 

Our Lord will surely come. 
Repent, believe, your sins confess. 
Put on His robe of righteousness. 
Reach out the helping hand to save 
Your friends from an eternal grave, 

For soon our Lord will come. 



He is Coming Again 

Ever nearer and dearer this truth comes to me, 
In this world full of sorrow and woe; 

Very soon will the Saviour His presence reveal 
To the faithful ones waiting below. 

Chorus: 

He is coming again! O that blessed refrain! 

Coming back, O the tidings proclaim! 
Then revealed in His glory all nations shall know 

'Tis the one who for sinners was slain. 

See the nations of earth, in their glory and pride. 
Meet in strife, and for victory contend: 

And the rich man in splendor strides over the poor, 
And there's no man regardeth the end. 

57 



Fearful sights and great signs both in heaven and 
earth, 
Trembling nature prepares for her doom; 
Flood and earthquake strike terror to hearts un- 
prepared; 
Soon the Saviour in glory will come. 

Let the swift flying angel His message proclaim 
To a world by gross darkness controlled; 

Over land, over sea, let the tidings go forth, 
Until thousands are brought to the fold. 

O then let us be ready, soon Jesus will come 

With a train of the angelic throng! 
O be watchful, be prayerful, be earnest and true, 

And we'll join in the conqueror's song! 



Heart Throbs 

Away in the grand old mountains, 

Afar from earth's busy strife, 
Thus in the heart of nature 

Shall my nestlings begin their life; 
The trees of the forest ever 

An inspiration will be. 
My heart shall be saddened never 

With all these beauties to see. 

So we builded a home in the greenwood, 

And my nestlings were given me, 
And day by day were nourished 

Their lives so lovingly. 
Life could not be quite sordid 

With so many things to love, 
With the beauteous mountains round us 

And with God's sweet sky above. 



58 



And often in early morning 

As I looked from our cottage door 
I could see the mountain ranges 

Wrapped in their mantle hoar, 
And ever the massive redwoods 

Their tall spires pointing above, 
A grand and wonderful temple 

All proving our God is love. 

And the music of the pine-trees 

And the giant redwoods tall 
Were atuned to the harps of heaven, 

And I loved them, loved them all; 
The flowers in the garden whispered 

Of the love that never fails. 
And songsters sang their sweetest 

In the quiet woodland vales. 

The mountains still are guarding. 
Though rent by earthquake shock, 

The valley and flowing streamlet. 
But my heart it mindeth not; 

For the ones who blessed our table 

And brightened our cottage door 

Have taken their place in life's battle, 

And the children return no more. 

For a time my heart shall hunger 

And my longing eyes grow dim, 
But when earth's last sheaves are gathered 

Then they will be welcomed in; 
The toil and strife all over. 

All the sin and heart-ache past, 
Then there will be joyful meetings 

When the Home Call sounds at last. 



59 



Thoughts of Mother 

I'm sitting in the old arm chair, 

To soothe my little one to sleep, 
When memories of the long ago 

Into my vision softly creep. 
I see a mother fondly clasp 

Within her arms her babe to rest; 
I hear the gentle notes of song 

Which lull it on it's mother's breast; 
I can see the wild birds sing, and sway 
In the meadow trees the livelong day; 
I can smell the scent of new-mown hay, 
And wild-wood flowers that bloom in May. 

Only a few short years had passed 

When death had stilled that loving heart; 
And O the anguish of that hour. 

When we with her were called to part. 
The years have drifted swiftly by. 

With weight of sorrow, sin and woe; 
The babe now sleeps beneath the sod, 

Whom mother loved so long ago; 
But her love and prayers and actions kind, 
Were a gift to those she has left behind. 
May we each our mothers' Saviour find. 
And in our hearts His precepts bind. 



THE END 



60 



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